Vive La Boheme
by Little Acorns
Summary: The story of a few misguided youths, very different from their peers. They live their lives as best they can, and hopefully find love on the way.. OCDM, OCGW, OCTN, OCRW. Warning- Drug Use.


**Chapter One – Die in the Class We Were Born (That's a class of our own, my love)**

When Cilla May and Peter Cohen stepped onto Platform 9 ¾, no one looked up. If they were to notice them, however, they'd see two skinny pale teenagers that had the appearance of those who lived in completely different world to their peers.

Peter was a tall skinny boy with a shock of dark hair that stood on all ends, and dark rings around his eyes, which were large and expressive. His clothes were well-worn, to say the least, and he didn't carry a trunk with him, but a half empty duffel bag, that seemed to be filled mostly with books. He also carried with him a beaten guitar case, covered with scratches, bumps and tiny drawings and paintings.

The girl he was with, Cilla, had long brown hair, and large dark eyes that seemed to be constantly dissecting those she looked at. They flicked lazily from one person to another, her cherubic mouth quirking up into half a smile whenever something amused her. Cilla was dressed head to toe in clothes that seemed to be purchased solely from second hand stores, this time in a red and white lace dress, and tattered white plimsolls. Indeed, nothing the pair of them owned appeared to be new.

"Seen Val and John yet?" Peter asked, the words flowing softly and almost of their own accord.

Cilla shook her head, and sat down on her battered, ancient old trunk. Peter sat next to her, and Cilla passed him a cigarette, which he accepted, and she put one between her own lips and lit with a match. She passed the box of matches to Peter wordlessly, and he did the same.

They sat in companionable silence, only speaking when something caught their attention, such as when Harry Potter walked straight into a cloud of their cigarette smoke. The boy wonder turned, and gave them a look that was half way between anger and pity.

Peter stared back at him with the exact same look, and Cilla simply rolled her eyes, looking towards a group of first years that were tearfully saying goodbye to parents and siblings.

Cigarettes finished, Peter pulled out his journal and began writing, and Cilla was reading a tattered novel, when a loud voice interrupted them.

"HEY!"

The two looked up to see their friend Valerie Buendias Marques bounding towards them. She came to a stop a few metres before them, and flung her arms wide.

"Well, what do you say?" She grinned at them.

Cilla raised her eyebrow. "Where's John?"

Valerie mock glared at her only female friend. "Fuck you, Miss May."  
Peter laughed, and then was somewhat tackled by their black clad friend, Jonathan Hawley.

"Petey! Cilla! Valerie! Did you miss me terribly? Was it awful without me? Do you have a fag?"

John was a very exuberant creature by nature, and today was dressed a little like an Edwardian dandy, but slightly more glam and goth. Including eyeliner. He had curly brown hair, slightly longer than strictly necessary, and shocking green eyes.

Valerie was dressed at the very peak of fashion, in a blue skirt, cream corset, and cream stockings. She had a huge silk scarf of roses draped effortlessly around her neck, and her hair was long, thick and black.

Unlike Cilla and Peter, Valerie and John were both from very rich backgrounds. Valerie's father currently owned the Nimbus and Firebolt companies, while John's father, up until his death, had been a very successful businessman.

"So? How's everyone's summer been? You've been terribly saucy, haven't you Pete?" John was saying.

Pete smiled at his friend, and in a way of responding, lit a new cigarette.

"REALLY?" Valerie said, always happy when one of her friends saw a little action.

"Really." Peter held the cigarette packet out to Valerie and John, who both took one and accepted Cilla's lighter.

"So, go on. Tell us all the disgusting details." John urged.

"While we move onto the train." Pete said, keen to get settled.

Cilla checked the time. "Twenty minutes till we leave. Time for a spliff beforehand, I do believe."

John and Pete were hauling the girl's trunks onto the train at this point, but Pete still managed to say "Most definitely" around the cigarette clamped between his lips.

In ten minutes, the four Ravenclaws (for that's what they were) were tucked into their own compartment, passing a joint between them, discussing the year ahead with a strange sense of dread.

"So. Seventh year this year. How do we all feel about that?" Cilla drew from her cigarette, observing her friends.

Valerie grinned widely. "Not so bad, you know? To be honest, I'm looking forward to the time off."

Peter shrugged, inhaling deeply from the spliff. "I guess. But after that, we're meant to be living out our life plans."

"Is this where we have that deep and meaningful talk about how we'll never stop being friends no matter what?" Cilla smirked, and reached out to take the spliff from Pete.

Valerie snickered. "No point. I bought us all a house in Whitechapel for us to live in when we graduate."

Cilla coughed, choking on the smoke as she got over the shock. "You what? Val, you're fucking mental."

John grinned. "But you should see the place, Cilla. It's fantastic! It's gonna be great."

Peter was still staring wide eyed at their rich friends. "You're kidding, right?"

Val grinned. "Consider it a graduation present." Upon Cilla and Pete's silence, she continued. "Oh come on! Look me in the eye and tell me you're not happy to get out of Knockturn Alley."

Cilla and Pete exchanged glances and nodded, thinking of their pokey little room in London. It was pretty dingy, not to mention kind of dangerous.

Val nodded in triumph, and took the spliff from Cilla. "That's what I thought. You can thank me later. Oh! Also- Presents!"

"Yay!" Cilla squealed. Cilla was a dedicated follower of fashion. Or at least, a deep admirer of it. But as she was abandoned at the doorstep of 'Madame Mim's magical orphanage, Diagon Alley' as a baby, she grew up in a certain state of poverty, unable to purchase certain luxuries of life. Dumbledore had come to collect her when she turned 11, saying that an anonymous benefactor had payed in advance her full schooling tuition. That's how she met Pete, John and Val. Now, with Dumbledore's permission and help, Cilla now lived with Peter in a tiny pokey little flat in Knockturn alley, and Valerie, having more money than she knew what to do with, kindly made all their purchases herself.

"So, Cilla darling, here's your usual." Valerie threw a trunk that had been shrunk to the size of a walnut to Cilla. Cilla caught it and grinned, knowing the trunk was full of exquisite fashion from all over the world.

"Pete honey, there's one for you too" Valerie threw a tiny trunk at her dark haired friend, who caught it with a "Cheers."

"You're welcome. Now, school junk." Once again Valerie reached into her trunk and pulled out a pile of shrunken books, and passed them to her friends.

"Now, exciting stuff. Pete, as a belated birthday present, here is the years supply of the following; Cigarettes, which is kindly brought to you care of Aberforth Dumbledore and that marvellous painting of his. We have 9 pounds of high-grade all-natural bud. One pound of primo Columbian cocaine for special occasions. And the usual array of liquid nourishment is currently safely stored, once again by dear old Aberforth. So well done us!" Valerie congratulated herself on the successful procurement of the above artefacts.

"Thanks, Val." Cilla said, already going through her new clothes.

"Cheers, darling." Pete said, already lighting a cigarette.

"Oh Vallie! You're so clever and wonderful bringing us all these yummy things to make the dreary hours of school melt away." John said in his usual exuberant manner.

Valerie chuckled, and passed John a bottle of Vodka. "There you go. Enjoy."

John smiled. "Thank you Valerie."

Pete had pulled out his guitar by now, and was strumming away to himself, and John, after a few healthy swigs of vodka, was thumbing through his textbooks. The two girls looked at each other, rolling their eyes at their typical antisocial behaviour.

"Cilla?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna go wandering around?"

Cilla considered it. "Yeah."

They left the boys in their compartment, as they walked aimlessly up the corridor of the train, chatting about what happened on their holidays and so on. It wasn't long before they saw someone they knew.

"Seamus!"

The Irishman was standing by a compartment, talking to the people inside. He looked up at the sound of his name and smiled.

"Hey! Val! Cilla!"

They walked up to him and gave him a hug. Seamus and Pete had dated for a while last year, and as the split was amicable, they had remained friends.

They saw who was in the compartment, and the friendly atmosphere suddenly became rather awkward. "Oh. Um, Hi." Cilla said, smiling shyly at Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Two of the three were glaring hatefully at the girls. Ron seemed to be the only one who wasn't filled with instant loathing at the sight of them.

"Hello." Hermione said stiffly.

"Hi." Harry said, equally as stiff.

"Hey. How was your summer?" Ron asked casually, popping a chocolate frog into his mouth, and offering one to the girls.

"No thanks. I'm a vegetarian." Val said charmingly.

No one laughed. Ron looked confused.

"It was a joke, darling." Valerie explained to him.

"Oh." Ron said, and then chuckled.

There was another moment of awkward silence, until Seamus spoke. "Hey! Tonight we're having a party in Gryffindor tower. It's at 8. You guys should come! Bring John and Pete too. It's not a party without you guys."

Cilla smiled. "Awesome. I can't speak for the boys, but we'll be there for sure."

"Definitely. Do we need to bring anything?" Val asked.

"Just yourselves. We've taken care of everything." Seamus smiled again.

Hermione spoke up then, a concerned look on her face. "Now, Seamus, they might not like it. It's not really a party you know. Just a few people and some butterbeer."

"Mione, what are you talking about? You know we've been organising this party all summer! It's gonna be huge!" Ron said, looking at Hermione shocked.

"Well, for us it's huge. For them, I'm sure its nothing compared to the parties they go to." Hermione was doing a terrible job of trying to have them not come to the party, and still being polite.

Cilla looked coldly at her. "Look, if you don't want us to come, just say so."

Hermione blushed. "Oh, uh, no.. I didn't.."

Seamus interrupted her. "Hermione. I invited them. They're my guests. They're coming." He glared at Hermione. She wilted under the gaze.

Seamus grinned. "So, will we see you tonight?"

Cilla smirked, not just a little pleased at seeing the self-righteous Gryffindor put in her place. "Why, naturally, Mr Finnegan? When have you ever known us to miss out on a party?"

Val smiled, "Especially not when there will be such cute guys there." With that, she turned slightly and winked at Ron, who was oblivious. "What cute guys? Aren't you going out with that Hawley bloke?"

Val outright laughed now. "With John? Not really. I prefer redheads, myself."

Poor Ron now just looked confused, Harry was glaring at the two girls, and Hermione was completely ignoring them.

Cilla sighed. "Lets go back to the compartment, Val. The hostility here is giving me a rash."

Val smiled. "Sure Cilla. Well, Seamus. See you later. Ron, I will _definitely_ see you later." She added suggestively.

"Uh. Sure." Ron cast Val an unsure look.

Cilla looked at him and giggled. "Val, leave the poor boy alone. Come on." And she walked off, back where they had come from.

Val cast one more flirtatious look at Ron, and then followed her friend.


End file.
